intuitive eating

  • How I Made It Through Thanksgiving Without Bingeing for the First Time

    Lately, I’ve been really intentional about stepping away from weight loss as a goal. Not because I don’t want to lose weight eventually… but because I finally understand something huge:

    If I don’t rewire my brain first, any weight I lose will just come right back.

    My brain has been wired since childhood to use food for comfort. Full stop. End of story. And until I address that, I can diet all I want, but nothing will change long-term.

    So right now, I’m focusing on two things:

    Consistency
    and
    Mindful eating.

    These are the two areas I’ve struggled with the most—especially when life gets chaotic.

    Thanksgiving Was the Test… and My Brain Wanted Comfort Food SO Badly

    Thanksgiving break last week was rough in all the ways that usually send me spiraling:

    • Family gatherings
    • Cooking and planning
    • Hosting friends
    • Kids home all day
    • Sensory overload
    • Stress
    • Noise
    • Emotional tension

    And, of course, a big one: my husband and I weren’t getting along.

    In the past, any one of these things would have been enough to push me straight into a binge.

    But this year, I made myself a promise:

    No matter what happens, stay consistent with mindful eating.
    Not perfect. Not restrictive. Just consistent.

    Because here’s the truth:
    Food doesn’t solve any of those problems.
    Not the stress.
    Not the overwhelm.
    Not the noise.
    Not the fighting.
    Not the exhaustion.

    If anything, it makes everything worse because afterward comes the anxiety, the guilt, the bloating, and the crash.

    So This Year, I Did Something Different

    Even through all the chaos, I slowed down.

    I listened to my body.

    I ate when I was hungry.

    I stopped when I was satisfied — not stuffed.

    I even did that at the Thanksgiving meal.
    No seconds.
    No rushing.
    And yes, I had pie.

    But I actually enjoyed the pie. I savored it without guilt, without fear, without using it as a shield to block out my feelings.

    And the most shocking part?

    I didn’t binge even once.

    I truly don’t think that has ever happened to me on a holiday. Maybe not since I was little.

    Rewiring My Brain, One Thought at a Time

    The real work wasn’t the eating — it was the thinking.

    There were moments where my thoughts said:

    “Just eat the leftover pie. It’s in the fridge.”

    Old me would’ve either fought the thought using willpower (and lost)…
    or obeyed it instantly.

    But this time, I watched it.

    I didn’t argue with it.
    I didn’t shame it.
    I didn’t cling to it.
    I just observed:

    Do I actually want pie right now?

    And the answer was an immediate, solid no.

    So I had a coconut bar instead — something that tastes amazing to me, satisfies me, and doesn’t make my blood sugar crash or leave me bloated like pie does.

    It wasn’t about choosing the “healthy” option.
    It was about choosing what I actually wanted.

    I’m Not Focusing on What I Eat — I’m Focusing on How and Why

    This is the foundation I never built before.

    This — the slowing down, the emotional awareness, the consistency, the self-trust — is the work that prevents binges.

    This is the work that heals.

    This is the work that allows the weight to release naturally later, without forcing it, without punishing myself, and without white-knuckling through cravings.

    Right now, I’m not counting calories.
    I’m not restricting.
    I’m not trying to be perfect.
    I’m not chasing a number on a scale.

    I’m fixing the fundamentals I’ve ignored for years.

    Because when my why is in the wrong place, my how will always follow.

    And that’s exactly why the binges happen.

    So this season of my life is about:

    ✨ Choosing consistency over perfection
    ✨ Eating mindfully, not mindlessly
    ✨ Listening to my body, not my stress
    ✨ Rewiring my brain with patience rather than force
    ✨ Being gentle but firm with myself
    ✨ Building trust again, one meal at a time

    And honestly?
    It feels like the first time I’m truly making progress.

  • When Healing Feels Messy: Why Not Giving Up Matters Most

    It’s been a while since I’ve written here—life pulled me in a hundred directions, and in the middle of it, I lost touch with my rhythm. I’ve been busy with work, I’ve been struggling with daily nausea, and I’ve fallen away from mindful eating. If I’m honest, I’ve found myself binging again, too.

    That part is hard to admit, but it’s the truth. For me, food freedom and mindful eating aren’t just practices—they’re lifelines. When I drift from them, I feel it. I feel disconnected from myself.

    And yet, here I am, writing again. That’s the point I keep coming back to: the important thing is not that I never slip, but that I never give up.

    Healing Isn’t Linear

    I used to think once I figured out mindful eating, I’d be set forever. But healing doesn’t work like that. It’s messy. It loops back on itself. There are good weeks, and then there are weeks where old patterns sneak back in. That doesn’t erase progress—it just means I’m human.

    I’ve been reminded lately that challenges with my health, stress, and life in general will sometimes knock me off track. And when that happens, I have a choice: I can label myself as a failure, or I can see it as part of the journey and gently step back onto the path.

    Why I’m Not Giving Up

    Every time I return to mindful eating, I feel more grounded. Every time I choose to pause before a meal, even for a breath, I remember that I’m capable of showing up for myself. Every time I share here—even after weeks away—I remind myself that honesty and persistence matter more than perfection.

    Not giving up doesn’t mean forcing myself to “do better.” It means allowing myself to begin again, no matter how many times it takes.

    If You’re Struggling Too

    Maybe you’ve been feeling off track lately. Maybe you’ve slipped back into old patterns or feel like your body is working against you. If that’s you, I want you to hear this: you’re not alone, and you haven’t failed.

    The most important thing you can do is not give up. Take one small step today—pause before your next meal, sip water slowly, breathe, or even just notice what you’re feeling without judgment. These tiny choices add up.

    One Bite, One Moment at a Time

    I’m reminding myself that food freedom doesn’t come from doing everything perfectly—it comes from the decision to keep showing up, one bite and one moment at a time.

    So here’s to beginning again, as many times as we need to.

  • Mindful Presence: Finding Sweetness in the Moment (Not in the Pantry)

    There was a time when I didn’t even realize how often I was reaching for sugar just to soothe myself through the chaos. A moment of frustration, a tired afternoon, a noisy room full of tiny voices calling “Mom!” on repeat — and suddenly I’d be halfway through a pack of chocolate chips, barely remembering how they got into my hand.

    But lately, I’ve been practicing something different.

    I’m learning to come back to the moment — especially with my kids. Not the perfect, Instagram-worthy moment, but the messy, beautiful, in-between ones: when my son is telling me a long story about his latest Minecraft creation, or when my daughter wants to show me the same jump for the tenth time. Those are the moments I used to try to escape with sugar. Now, I’m trying to be in them instead.

    One thing I’ve noticed: the more I resist the present moment, the more I try to control everything around me — especially my kids. I tighten up. I start snapping, micromanaging, needing everything to be just so. But when I soften into what’s actually happening, even if it’s inconvenient or chaotic, I’m a lot more grounded. The urge to control fades. The need for sugar fades too.

    The other day I was outside with the kids, and I felt that familiar surge of overwhelm as my mental to-do list started spiraling: I should be working, I should be cleaning, I should be catching up. I could feel the pressure in my chest building, thoughts racing. But instead of getting swept up in it, I noticed the chaos in my head. I deepened my breath. And I looked at my kids.

    They were just… playing. Laughing. Being kids.

    So I stayed. I chose to watch them, to really see them — and suddenly, everything softened. I felt so grateful for that moment: my kids playing together, the sunshine on my skin, the stillness that was waiting for me underneath all that mental noise. That presence was everything. And it was so much sweeter than anything I could have found in the pantry.

    This isn’t about guilt or being the perfect parent. It’s about choosing presence over autopilot. Choosing connection over comfort food. Choosing to feel what’s happening instead of numbing it away.

    And honestly? It’s not always easy. Sometimes I still get the urge to disappear into a bag of trail mix or sneak a handful of something sweet while no one’s looking. But I’m getting better at pausing. Breathing. Noticing.

    And when I do that — when I stop resisting and just let the moment be what it is — I often realize the thing I was running from isn’t as scary or overwhelming as it felt. Sometimes I even find joy in it.

    So now, when I feel that pull to run to the pantry, I try to ask myself:

    What if the sweetness I’m craving is already right here?

    Because one day, the toys won’t be scattered everywhere. The interruptions will quiet. And I know I’ll miss it — all of it. These days are fleeting, and I want to live them, not numb my way through them.

    ✨ Try This: A Simple Presence Practice

    Next time you feel yourself spiraling with stress or reaching for sugar out of habit, try this tiny reset:

    1. Pause.
    2. Put one hand on your heart or belly.
    3. Take three slow, deep breaths.
    4. Name one thing you can see, one thing you can hear, and one thing you can feel.
    5. Whisper to yourself: “I’m safe to be here now.”

    It might seem small, but this shift can help you return to your body — and to the life that’s happening around you.

    🌱 Presence Reminders for Daily Life

    Here are some gentle cues I’ve used to reconnect when I feel myself slipping into control or autopilot:

    – Every time I sip my water, I take a breath and come back to my body.
    – When my child says “Mom!” for the tenth time, I use that as a grounding moment instead of a trigger.
    – I leave my phone in another room while spending time with my kids, even just for 10 minutes.
    – I keep a sticky note nearby that says “This is the moment.”

    🧡 One Moment is Enough

    If you’re reading this and feeling like it’s hard to be present — you’re not alone.
    But maybe today, you can choose one moment to slow down and stay.
    One moment to soften instead of control.
    One moment to breathe and look around you, just like I did outside with my kids.
    That one moment is enough. And it’s a start.

  • Mindful Eating: A Gentle Path Back to Self

    Mindful Eating: Coming Home to Myself

    There was a time when I didn’t even realize I had eaten until I saw the empty wrapper on the counter.

    I’d be standing in the kitchen — heart racing, mind spinning, kids yelling in the background — and suddenly I’d find myself halfway through a bag of something sweet or salty, not even remembering how it started. I wasn’t hungry. I was overwhelmed. I was touched-out. I was craving quiet and couldn’t find it. I just wanted to feel better for a second.

    That was my normal for a long time.

    It felt like food was the only thing that didn’t ask anything of me. It didn’t need me to be patient or regulated or productive or strong. It just let me escape — for a few minutes.

    But afterward? I felt worse. Sluggish. Guilty. Distant from my own body.
    And that’s when I realized: I didn’t want food to be my only safe place.
    I wanted me to be my safe place.

    Mindful eating became my slow return back to myself. Not as a diet. Not as a punishment. But as a way to reconnect. To pause. To listen. To be with myself, instead of running away from everything I was feeling.

    What Is Mindful Eating, Really?

    Mindful eating is the practice of bringing your full awareness to the act of eating — from the first craving to the last bite. It’s about noticing, choosing, and experiencing your food with intention.

    It’s not about eating perfectly, or only eating kale, or giving up sugar forever.
    It’s not about counting every macro or chewing each bite 47 times.

    It’s about breaking the cycle of numbing out, speeding through, and self-shaming.
    It’s about slowing down long enough to feel safe in your body again.

    My Old Patterns: Automatic and Invisible

    There were so many triggers I didn’t see clearly until I started paying attention.
    — When I was alone, especially at night — food filled the silence.
    — When I was sick or tired, I craved sugar and salt like a lifeline.
    — When I felt anxious, I needed the crunch or the chew or the sweetness.
    — When I was overstimulated (hello, toddler meltdowns), it gave me something to control.

    It was so automatic, I didn’t even notice it happening. Until I was already knee-deep in brownie batter, or licking the inside of the peanut butter jar, or hiding the wrapper because I didn’t want to admit how out of control I felt.

    But mindful eating isn’t about willpower.
    It’s about awareness.

    The goal isn’t to never emotionally eat again. The goal is to notice the why — and then gently decide, “What do I really need right now?”

    Sometimes the answer is still food.
    But other times, it’s a nap. A breath. A moment alone. Or just permission to cry.

    What Mindful Eating Looks Like in My Life Now

    I’m not perfect at this. I still slip. But I’ve created some habits that help me reconnect before, during, and after I eat.

    Before I Eat:

    • I take a breath — even just one — before I grab something. It gives me a chance to ask: What am I feeling? What do I really need?
    • I pause and name my hunger. Is this physical hunger or emotional hunger? Both are valid. But they need different care.
    • I remind myself I’m allowed to enjoy food. This helps take away the guilt, so I can actually feel satisfied — instead of stuck in a shame loop.

    While I Eat:

    • I sit down (when I can). Even if it’s just on the floor with my toddler. I try not to eat standing up like I’m rushing through life.
    • I put the food on a plate instead of eating from the package. It makes the act feel more intentional.
    • I check in halfway through. Am I still hungry? Am I full but still wanting more for emotional reasons? Just asking the question helps.

    After I Eat:

    • I take a moment to notice how I feel. Did that food satisfy me? Or am I still needing something deeper — connection, rest, stillness?
    • I give myself grace. There is no “perfect” here. Some days I eat mindfully. Some days I eat emotionally. Both are human. I’m still healing.

    Mindful Eating Is Not About Control. It’s About Curiosity.

    For years, I thought healing my relationship with food meant I had to control it. Track it. Conquer it.
    But it turns out, control was never the answer.
    Compassion was.

    Now, instead of saying, “Why did I eat that?”
    I ask: “What was I needing?”
    And that question alone softens everything.

    Because at the end of the day, mindful eating isn’t about food.
    It’s about presence. Awareness. And the courage to stay with yourself — even in the messiest moments.

    I’m not here to eat perfectly.
    I’m here to feel whole.

    And every time I eat with intention, every time I choose connection over control, I come home to myself a little more.

    If You’re Just Starting This Journey

    Here’s what I’d say to you, mama — if you’re where I was:

    • Start small. Just one breath before eating is enough.
    • Get curious, not judgmental. Every moment is feedback, not failure.
    • You don’t need a plan, or rules, or a perfect kitchen. You just need a willingness to come back to yourself.
    • The goal isn’t to never eat emotionally. It’s to understand what your emotions are asking for.

    You’re not broken. You’re just tired.
    And maybe food was the only one listening for a while.
    But now… you are.

  • How I Took My Power Back in the Middle of a Snack Spiral

    Last night, I had one of those moments—the kind that used to completely unravel me. I was tired. I’d eaten more than I wanted to that day. My body felt uncomfortable and full of that familiar guilt I know too well. But it wasn’t just about food—I’d been carrying a lot emotionally too. I’d uncovered deep truths about myself, about my past, about patterns I’ve lived in for years. It was heavy.

    And in the middle of all that, the thought showed up: fruit snacks.
    That quiet, almost automatic whisper—“Just eat them. You already messed up today anyway.”

    And for years, I’ve listened to that voice. I’ve turned to food when things felt too big.
    Not because I was hungry, but because I didn’t know how else to self-soothe.
    Not because I didn’t care, but because it felt like the only comfort I had.
    And I hated that. I hated how fast I could go from tired and overwhelmed to numbing myself with sugar. It always felt like a betrayal—to my body, to my goals, to the version of me that I’m trying to become.

    The Pattern I’m Breaking

    Usually, the story in my head goes something like this:

    “You’ve already messed up today.”
    “You’re uncomfortable anyway, what’s one more thing?”
    “Just eat the fruit snacks. You’ll feel better.”

    And maybe I would—for about three minutes.
    But then came the spiral: regret, shame, more guilt, more discomfort.
    The food was never the problem. It was the way I was using it to disconnect from myself.

    What I’m learning is that the urge to eat like that—fast, disconnected, reactive—isn’t about weakness. It’s a trauma response. It’s survival-mode. It’s my body trying to rescue me from emotional overwhelm the only way it knew how.

    Last Night Was Different

    But something shifted in me last night.

    I noticed the thought.
    I paused.
    I breathed.
    And I said, “No. Not this time.”

    Not out of punishment. Not out of willpower.
    But because I finally felt strong enough to sit in the discomfort. To stay connected to myself instead of abandoning her again.

    I reminded myself that I was safe, even in the mess. That I could feel full and emotionally raw and still not need to numb it. I let the craving rise and fall. I told the voice in my head, “I hear you. But I’m choosing me instead.”

    And it passed.

    It Wasn’t About the Fruit Snacks

    It was about the story behind them.

    It was about the part of me that always believed comfort only comes in a package.
    The part of me that thought I had to numb my feelings to survive.
    The part of me that was trained to self-abandon the moment things got hard.

    But that part of me isn’t running the show anymore.
    Last night wasn’t just about saying no to fruit snacks.
    It was about saying yes to me.

    To the woman who is learning to stay.
    To the woman who no longer needs to prove anything through perfection.
    To the woman who can feel big feelings without reaching for something to quiet them.
    To the woman who is healing.

    And that small win? It was huge.
    Because it reminded me that I am not powerless.
    I am not broken.
    I am not owned by my cravings or my past.

    I am learning to love myself not just when I get it all right, but especially when I don’t.
    And that, right there, is where real transformation begins.

  • I Set Boundaries With Everyone—Except Me

    Yesterday, I had a really healthy day with food. I felt proud of myself. Then, later that night, I was in bed eating some fruit when I accidentally knocked my phone onto the floor. I leaned over to grab it, and that’s when I saw them—an opened bag of crackers I had binged on back on Easter. I had completely forgotten about them until that moment.

    And just like that, everything shifted.

    I got back into bed, but suddenly I felt hungry—almost uncomfortably so. The excuses started rushing in, like a familiar chorus: You already messed up before, just finish the bag. It’s just this once. You’re probably actually hungry. I didn’t fight them for long. I gave in. And afterward, I felt that deep, heavy guilt. I even woke up in the middle of the night, just kicking myself.


    But somewhere between shame and exhaustion, I had a realization:
    I’ve been doing a good job holding boundaries with others, but I haven’t been holding any with myself.

    That moment wasn’t just about crackers—it was about self-trust. It showed me how quickly my brain can fall back into old patterns when I don’t have clear, compassionate boundaries to support me. Not rules. Not restrictions. Just loving guardrails that help me feel safe.

    So I’ve decided to start small, with two gentle boundaries that feel right for me right now:

    1. No Eating After 8 PM
    Evenings are when I tend to feel the most vulnerable. I’m tired, emotionally worn, and more likely to confuse other needs—like comfort, rest, or distraction—for hunger.
    My boundary: I stop eating after 8 p.m. If an urge comes up, I check in with myself: What am I really needing right now?

    2. Anchor Phrase for Urges
    When those sneaky justifications start whispering in my ear, I need a way to interrupt the script.
    My boundary: When I feel an urge, I pause and say:
    “This isn’t about hunger—it’s about something else. Let me check in.”

    These boundaries aren’t meant to trap me—they’re meant to hold me.

    If you’re on a healing journey too, maybe ask yourself:
    What boundaries am I holding for others that I haven’t yet learned to hold for myself? And what would it look like to offer yourself the same structure and care?

    We deserve that kind of self-respect. We really do.